


Here Comes the Sun

by SevielCiel



Series: John and Mimi [4]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Angst, Brain Damage, Brain Injury, Character Death, Crying, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt John, Hurt No Comfort, I like this tag lol, Implied Car Accident, John Whump, John cries a lot, Lots of Angst, Physical Disability, Poor John, Vulnerability, john got hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2020-12-28 07:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21132920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevielCiel/pseuds/SevielCiel
Summary: After a serious car accident, nothing will be the same for the Beatles





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).

> This was inspired by a beautiful fic I've read, but I think the author took it down, because I can't find it anymore.
> 
> (At the moment I like hurting John, I don't know why lol, usually I like making Paul the vulnerable one)

Paul McCartney sighed, rubbing the sides of his head.  
He had a strong headache. He was feeling so tired.

And the loud wails coming from upstairs weren't helping him.

Suddenly, a loud bang and shouts could be heard.

"What's wrong?"  
Paul looked up at Brian, who had just entered the room.  
"I don't know" muttered Paul, without getting up from the sofa he was sitting on, his bass resting next to him.

Another loud bang could be heard and Brian quickly run upstairs to see what was going on.

Paul sighed once again.

Three months. It had been three months since his life, along with the lives of the other Beatles was changed.

He looked down at his right arm.  
It was still held into a plaster. He reached up, touching his forehead and wincing at the sting it made, since he had 5 stitches put in his forehead.

He massaged the sore part, slowly making his way upstairs.

"Hey..." he softly said, entering a bedroom.

John, his best mate, was curled up on the floor in the corner of the room.  
The younger man made his way towards him, crouching down in front of the figure and gently putted his hand on his shoulder, frowning as the older man jumped up scared.

Smashed a bit more further, a bedside lamp was broken on the floor.

"Oh, John" sighed softly Paul, grabbing his friend's hand, which was bleeding.

"I'm sorry, Paul" cried out John, looking up at his friend.

"Hey, don't apologize. It's alright" reassured Paul, cleaning the cut on John's palm.

The older man frowned, "No!" he quickly shouted, passing from pure, utter sadness to rage in a second. "Nothing is fine! I'm not myself anymore..." he ended in a sad whisper.

How true that was.

That wasn't Paul's best mate anymore.  
That wasn't Beatle John Lennon, the smart Beatle, the one always ready to talk back to anyone.  
The one never afraid of anyone, not even of people more important than him.

No.

Now, John was always trembling in fright, wincing at loud voices and shouts. Always getting angry, and then bursting into tears, loud wails and sobs shaking his thin frame.  
He couldn't even play guitar anymore, not remembering even the basic chords.

But still, Paul and the others still cared a lot for him.  
It was still their leader, their best friend, their brother, their John. Even if he wasn't alright.

John had suffered brain damage after a car accident.  
It had been horrible.  
Paul remembered the sound of the tires screeching on the asphalt, the shouts of fright of him and his mates.

The pain.

Luckily, he didn't have any permanent damage, aside from a broken arm, broken ribs and a cut on his forehead.

George, Ringo and Brian were lucky too.

John, however, wasn't as lucky.

"Hey, stop with the self blaming. Mimi's coming around soon" said gently Paul, hosting onto unstable feet the other one.

John stumbled a bit before getting his footing, face reddening with a blush.

"Who's coming? Mimi? When did she told you?" he asked confused.

"She told us two days ago that she was coming" explained patiently the bassist, taking a hold of John's hand and walking him to the bathroom.

Brian was there, softly smiling. "Do you need help to get dressed?" he softly said, grabbing the clothes he had previously putted on the closed toilet seat.

John blushed, before nodding, stepping closer to his manager and Paul took that as a cue to leave.

The bassist made his way downstairs, when the doorbell rung.

Mimi was there.

Though her face was set in the usual stone-cold expression, it was clear that she was really anxious.

"Hi, Paul" she greeted.  
"Hi, Mimi" answered Paul, stepping back to let the woman enter inside.

"A cup of tea?"  
"No, thank you. Where is John?"  
"Oh, he's coming downstairs shortly..." 

The room fell silent again.

George and Ringo weren't there, they were out for the day.  
Paul had insisted to remain home, not because he fancied facing the terrible Mimi Smith again, but mostly to give comfort to his lost best friend.  
Brian had stayed too.

Finally, the sound of someone coming down the stairs could be heard, along with a shushed voice talking, probably Brian reassuring the rhythm guitarist that Mimi wasn't angry with him.

When she had called, two days before, she was shouting madly at Paul and Brian to have hidden the well being of her nephew for three whole months.

Though she was shouting, Paul could had swore there were the sounds of sobs too. 

She was crying. Probably afraid of John forgetting her.

In fact, once she had calmed down, she had asked Paul if John could remember her, and he had answered positively.  
Yes, John did remember his aunt. And it was surprising to hear him wail out that he wanted her there with him, because she could made the bad thoughts go away.

He had sounded so much like a child, with his big, teary eyes and small, weak voice that the other three Beatles and Brian had all bunked up with him for the night, holding him tight.

John entered the room, looking the floor and not acknowledging his aunt, who had gotten up from the sofa.

"John..."

He seemed to have heard her, but his eyes, clouded with tears, were still looking down.  
His hands were shaking and it was clear he was trying to control his emotions.

Brian and Paul gulped, not knowing if we was going to be able to repress them. It could rather be a burst of anger, or an ocean of tears.  
They didn't know which one was better.

"Johnny, please, look at me" her tone was a pleading one, her eyes were brimming with tears as she made her way to her shaking nephew.

Just with a touch of her hand on his face, gently cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss onto his forehead sent John into a hysteric fit.

"Auntie, auntie, auntie!" started crying the man, sounding like a broken record.

He throw himself at her, tightly gripping her with his skinny arms and Mimi, taken aback since she hadn't been hugged by him since he was a young child, kept still for a while.

She then gently returned the hug, holding him close.

"Shh, it's alright. Auntie's here, Johnny. I'm not going to leave you. I love you" she started saying, trying to reassure the wailing boy in her arms.

"I love you too" muttered John, still crying but a bit more calmly.

Mimi gently picked him up, groaning slightly under his weight, but managing to keep both of them up.

"Shh, it's alright" she said again, walking towards the sofa.

Paul smiled slightly, shuffling a bit to make more space for the two, before patting the spot next to him, "Johnny, do you want to sit next to me?"

John looked at him, before shyly shooking his head.  
Mimi sat down, putting him on her lap gently and the man sighed happily, putting his head on her shoulder.

"Brain injuries are really messed up" he mumbled softly, eyes slowly closing, his energies drained by all the cries.

"They suck" agreed Mimi, kissing the top of his head, "Now, try to sleep, okay? I'll be there when you wake up"

"Promise?"  
"Promise" 

John seemed content with that, quickly falling asleep in her arms.

Only than, Mimi allowed the tears to roll down her cheeks, as she wept for her lost boy.

Paul got on his knees and prayed.

Prayed that everything was going to be just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

'John Lennon. Is he drunk or high on drugs?' 

Paul quickly slammed down the newspaper he was reading, feeling enraged.

"Paul? What's wrong?" asked Brian, looking worriedly at the bassist.

Paul didn't answer, just passing him the newspaper and just looked at him as he read.

Brian gulped. "Why are they so cruel?" he asked softly, looking towards the sitting room.

John was there, sitting on the sofa, his hands into his aunt's.  
Mimi was smiling, gently talking to him with a soft voice and gently giggled when the man snuggled his head under her chin and gently begun to play with his fingers, which were intertwined in the woman's hair.

Mimi putted her chin on top of his head and looked towards the kitchen, her stare making a hole into Paul's head.

"John isn't a drunk or a druggy" mumbled lowly the younger man, rubbing his eye.

They got up and walked to the sofa, "Johnny, how are you feeling now? Does your head still hurt?" asked Paul softly, putting a hand on the older one's thigh.

John looked at him and smiled, Paul's heart tightening painfully at the bright smile he made, so innocent and child-like, very different from Lennon's usual smirks.

"It still hurts a bit, Paulie. But I'm a bit better, I think" he answered happily, relaxing back so that his head was resting on Mimi's small shoulder.

The woman gently carded her fingers into John's untameable mop of hair until the boy's eyes fluttered closed again and he sighed softly.

"Johnny?" softly whispered Brian, sitting next to Paul.

John's eyebrows furrowed and he opened wearily his eyes.

"Who are you?" he mumbled, his voice heightening in pitch a bit and he curled more around Mimi, who worriedly looked at him.

"Mimi? Who are those sirs?" he said, sounding like a little child.

The other two men's eyes widened in shock.

He sounded like a child no older than 8 years old.

"Those men are Paul and Brian. Paul is your best friend and Brian is your friend too!" she said.

John looked at him weirdly, "I don't know anyone called that" he said, before grimacing a bit, "my head hurts, Mimi" he said, eyes watering.

"Don't worry, boy. Close your eyes and go to sleep" she whispered, pushing his head against her chest.

John moved around a bit, before settling down and closing his tired eyes, "I need to pee" he softly muttered, looking up at her.

"The bathroom is upstairs, second door on the right" said Paul, smiling a bit.

John nodded, "thank you, sir" he politely answered, getting up and walking up the stairs.

The other three stunned looked at each other.

"What's wrong with him?" shouted Paul.

"Head injuries are quite tricky" said Mimi "I think he doesn't remember anything. I don't even think he actually remembers how old he is" 

They kept silent, every one of them busied with their own thoughts.

After a while, John returned downstairs.

He shyly glanced at the two men, quickly shuffling to were he was sitting before.

"All done?" joked the woman, managing to smile.

John grinned, sitting back down onto her lap.

"You're tired, aren't you?" she said knowingly, twirling in her finger a strand of his hair.

John shooked his head, "What will happen if mom tries to take me away again while I'm sleeping?" he asked frightened, looking at Mimi with scared eyes.

"W-what?" she muttered quietly, "Mom broke the window and got inside than she bringed me to her house!" he shouted, eyes wide.

The woman gulped, "Oh. Right. Right. Don't worry, John, I'm going to be there with you, okay?" she reassured, her hand cupping his face softly.

John looked at her like a lost child, "You promise?"  
"Yes, I promise. Now, close your eyes and fall asleep, okay? I'm here. I will never make something happen to you again" she reassured, kissing his cheek.

The boy smiled contently, resting his head on her shoulder.

"Mimi, what did John mean with 'mom is going to take me away'?" asked softly the dark haired bassist.

Then woman sighed, "When John was 6 he was sleeping one afternoon in his bedroom. Julia, his mom, broke a window to get inside. She knocked me out with something and when I got my senses back I found out John wasn't in his bed. I searched for him in the whole neighborhood and called the police, that told me I had to wait 24 hours" she sighed, passing a hand through her curls, her eyes fixed on John's peacefully asleep face.

"Until the night, when he had returned home in tears. As soon as he saw me he ran into my arms, refusing to let me go. Until then, until he was 11, he had always napped next to me in the afternoons and walked around with me. He was really traumatized by all of this" she said, eyes brimming with tears. "If only I had been more careful" she whispered, gripping her head.

"No, Mimi! You did nothing wrong. You gave him a home, love and care" said Brian, gently hugging him, without startling John, who was fast asleep, his body curled around his aunt's.

Paul sighed.

Everything was going to be alright.


	3. Chapter 3

Paul couldn't help but feel as he didn't have a best friend anymore.

John didn't even remember him.

It was like he was 8 year old once again and so he was behaving like one.

The amnesia was the worst thing that could happened to him.

John was really shy, at least around Paul, Brian, George and Ringo.

He always talked with Mimi, though, always wanting to be held close and hugged, but as soon as the others approached him he would quickly shut up and tried to hide.

It was quite the change since John was usually not keen on physical contact, and so wasn't Mimi.

Mimi couldn't remember the last time she had been hugged by John.

Though she didn't like the fact that John was so vulnerable and hurt, she liked the fact that he was stuck in a mindset that still needed her.

That still needed the comfort and the care of his auntie.

"Auntie, I'm tired..."  
she looked up at the source of the voice and smiled as she was met by John, rubbing sleepily at his eye.

He was already wearing his pyjama and he looked as he was about to fall asleep right there on his feet.

"Okay! Let's get to bed" she said, getting up and John gently took her hand in his.

Paul was looking with a melancholic look in his puppy eyes.

Though John was way taller and bulkier than Mimi, there was something screaming vulnerability in his thin frame.

The man yawned, eyes more droopy as the pair made their way upstairs, Paul following close.

Mimi carefully tucked John in bed, but his arms tightened around her.

"Good night, auntie Mimi" he said, sounding like a child.

"Good night, Johnny" she whispered, leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead.

Soon, the man was asleep and the woman got out of the bedroom, being met by a sad looking Paul.

"He looks so small and vulnerable" whispered Paul, twisting his hands.  
Mimi nodded and sighed as the two made their way downstairs and into the sitting room.

"John was a lovely boy" she started, her dark eyes fixing into Paul's hazel ones, "But a very frightened boy too. Especially after his mother kidnapped him" she sighed, passing her hand through her dark unruly curls.  
"I'm afraid that the small things that accompanied him throughout childhood will be there too"

Paul hummed, but after that, everything was silent.

The house was silent, if note for the low notes of the bass Paul was plucking at.

"What are you even playing, boy?" asked Mimi, who was reading a book, looking amused at the younger man.

Paul smiled a bit, "nothing, really. Just playing random notes"

Everything was silent again, until a bloodcurdling scream echoed around the house.

The two quickly ran upstairs and bursted into John's bedroom. 

"John? Johnny, where are you?" asked worriedly Paul, seeing as the bed was empty.

A small whimper came from the corner and, huddled up, there was John, curled into a ball.

"John!" said Mimi and Paul in unison, getting on their knees just in front of the trembling man.

John looked up, his eyes still wide and scared, tears still streaming down his pale cheeks as he reached out to reach Mimi.

The woman gently got a hold of him and Paul couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of the fact his best mate hadn't even looked at him.

'Calm down, Paul' he had to remind himself, 'he's not in his right mind. He's mentally a child, of course he turns to Mimi when in need of comfort' yet that thought gave him little to none glee.

He just kept looking as Mimi cradled and shushed him, until he was no longer sobbing. 

The dark haired bassist looked down, seeing that John had wetted himself.

"John" he softly said, but Mimi shushed him.

"Go change yourself, love. I'm going to change the sheets and then you can go back to sleep, alright?"

The auburn haired one nodded, getting up and shuffling towards the door, Mimi passing him fresh clothes to change into.

"If he's eight years old, it means that he still wets the bed" explained the woman to the younger man.  
Paul hummed, "Still wetted the bed at that age?"

"Yes, he had been doing it until he was at least 10 or 11. I don't even know why, the doctor had said that nothing was wrong with him" said Mimi, getting up and changing the bedsheets.

Paul was about to help her when John suddenly shuffled him, shyly looking at who everyone was claiming was his best friend.

He got closer to his aunt and snuggled his head in her hair.

"I had a bad dream" he whispered.

They sat down on the bed, John in the middle with Paul on his left and Mimi on his right.

"I was in a car with you" he pointed to Paul "and other three men and than the car crushed I think?" he mumbled, leaning closer to the woman and posing his head on her lap.

'Maybe he's going to remember!' thought Paul full of hope.

"I was scared auntie!" he whined, rubbing his eyes.

"I bet you were" she said softly, laying him down on the bed, "Why don't you sleep?"

He shooked his head, "I don't want to sleep" he whined, without conviction behind his words.

He was just probably scared that he was going to have a bed dream again.

Mimi sighed, "do you want me to stay here with you?" she said, caressing his messy hair.

The man nodded, moving around to make more room in the bed.

Mimi gently held him close to her chest, so that he could heard her heartbeat and be sure she was alive and well.

"Goodnight, Mimi. Goodnight, John" whispered Paul, getting out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

That night, neither of them could sleep, to worried in their own thought.

The only one who could sleep was a little boy trapped into a man's body, not aware of the terrible things that were happening around him.


	4. Chapter 4

After John's accident, nothing was the same anymore.  
A month had passed already, but John was still mentally the 8-year-old he thought to be.

"We can't know for sure, just like I told you back when we first discovered about the brain damage" said the doctor to the worried boys in the hospital.

John had to do a check-up and Brian had taken him to the hospital, all the boys wanting to come along.

Paul worriedly glanced to the window of John's hospital room.

The boy was sitting in bed, curiously looking as the nurses walked around him.

"Are you a nurse?" he asked curiously and the woman nodded with a smile.

"Yes, John, I'm a nurse. How did you know?" she gently asked.

All the nurses had been informed of John's brain damage and everyone was very gentle and patient with him, a thing the other Beatles and Brian were glad about.

The last thing they needed was a scandal regarding John's health.

John grinned, while the nurse laid him down better on the bed, "My auntie is a nurse too and she wears the same clothes when she works!" he said and the nurse nodded, "What a bright boy we have here!" she exclaimed, before getting out of the bedroom.

Paul rushed to the door as soon as the Sister was out.

"John, are you alright?" he asked, sitting down next to him.  
The older boy looked incredibly tired and it didn't look like he was much comfortable either.

John shrugged, "Me head hurts a little and my arm is itchy" he said with a whiny voice.

Paul chuckled, "Why is your arm itchy, Johnny?"

"Look!" he shrieked, holding his arm out wide eyed for Paul to see.

The younger boy chuckled, "You're right, John! That needle is very big!" he said, John nodding widely.

"Yes! The nurse had hit me with that big needle and it hurt!" he said, dramatically flopping down on the bed.

"Be careful to not hit your head" warned Paul.

The auburn haired one sighed, getting out of bed with a scowl and setting down on Paul's lap.

"I miss my auntie. And my mummy" he said in a whisper. Paul quietly wrapped his arms around his thin body.

It wasn't a very comfortable position, John being the same height as Paul, but they managed to get comfortable.

"Do you want to talk about your mummy or your auntie?" he whispered where he had buried his face into soft auburn locks.

John only shrugged, "I don't see my mum very often though. I don't know why, but she doesn't want a child, she told me so" he said, moving around so he could look into Paul's face.

Paul was always nice and kind, John liked him very much.

He didn't remember that Paul used to be his best friend, the person he was more closed with.

Paul was lost into his own thoughts and was startled by the other's voice.

"What about your mum?" he asked curiously,just like the child he mentally was.

Paul bit the inside of his cheek. Of course John couldn't remember the story of his mother. Or of his neither, because Julia was still alive when John was 8. 

Maybe not around much, but still alive.

"My mom" he started and couldn't help himself but brush John's fringe away from his eyes.

"She was a nurse like your aunt" he said, "She was sweet, umble and lovingly. She sadly died when I was 14" 

John's eyes widened, "I'm sorry, Mr.Paul. I bet she was a wonderful lady"

He posed his head down onto his chest, "I bet she's up there in the sky, looking down at you" he said quietly, letting Paul play with his slightly curly hair.

The younger man smiled, "You're very wise for your age, y'know?" 

John smiled, "Thank you. When can I see my auntie Mimi?" he asked in a low voice.

"Hope soon, Johnny. And maybe your headache will heal, yeah?"

But John didn't answer. He had fallen asleep into his arms, face pale.

Paul carefully putted him into bed, frowning slightly as a sick realization came to him, before he started shouting for the doctors.

John wasn't breathing anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, two updates in one day lol (three if you count the update of the other story as well).  
Hope you'll enjoy it!

Paul couldn't understand what was wrong.

John was fine! He was talking.

And now, doctors were rushing around him, shouting and injecting things into his body.

Paul's eyes were wide as he looked at Brian scared, like a child.

"What happened to him? Did he show signs of not being alright?" asked Brian, pacing up and down the hallway.

"He was fine! We were talking, everything seemed okay. Then he got quiet and I thought he had fallen asleep. Then the heart monitor started making a long prolonged beep and I realized he wasn't breathing" he took a big gulp, "What will happen if they can't...if they can't make his heart beat again?"

Suddenly, Paul got wrapped into three pairs of arms.

"John is a warrior. It will take more than just his heart to stop him forever" whispered George.

For the first time that night, Paul let himself cry, feeling completely all over the place.

.

Paul was awoken by a hand softly shaking his shoulder.

He blinked open his eyes, feeling confused. He hadn't even realized to have fallen asleep.

Memories of the previous things happened made him suddenly jerk up, almost hitting Brian straight on the face with his sudden movement.

"Please, tell me that John-" he rushed out, dreading to hear bad news.  
"He's fine, Paul" whispered Brian, a smile forming on his thin bitten lips and his weary, wet eyes posed on Paul's equally wet and tired ones.

Paul's euphoria was suddenly broken, "I can feel a 'but' in your next words" he said.

Brian sighed deeply, "But there's a chance he might have suffered another brain damage. The doctors aren't sure since John hadn't woken up yet" he said, "which is normal" he added, seeing Paul's fear stricken expression.

"So, what triggered the attack? He's a healthy man" whispered Paul, letting Brian drag him to John's room.

He hadn't even noticed to be on a bed in an empty room.

Poor Brian, his job was becoming more and more the one of a guardian, more than of a manager.

"It was more a 'when' than a 'if'. Probably a combination of all the years of smoking and drinking, plus all the medications he's on since the accident" said Brian and only then, the younger man noticed that they were in front of John's hospital room.

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

John looked so small in that hospital bed. He was surrounded by wires and the steady beat coming from his heart monitor was the only audible thing in the room.

He didn't look bad, thought Paul, taking in John's relaxed expression, for one who had just died-  
Paul quickly shook his head, making the bad thought go away.

No. He had to be positive. John was still there, still breathing.

Sure, might have serious brain damage, but it wasn't nothing new, since he had already suffered from one.

'He might not be able to sing anymore' resounded Brian's sad words, 'might even not be able to talk, walk or even take care of himself, really'

Paul tried to think of a life without him.

Without the hot-headed, dirty mouthed, talented, witty yet sweet John Lennon.

He thought of a John Lennon that couldn't talk or even couldn't think.  
A man who needed constant help in everything.  
He imagined himself spoon feeding him or helping him go to the bathroom, wiping him after he had gone.

He already had bathed him a few times, while mentally being a 8-year-old and it wasn't unpleasant. It was just weird, because that child who was in his best friend's body, wasn't really John. Or better, it was John when he was only a child.

So the thought of further losing him was scaring him.

He was going to be there for him nonetheless.  
After all, John was his brother, even if not in blood.

He walked closer to the bed, greeting George and Ringo, who were sitting by the bed, with a nod.

His big puppy eyes were fixed onto his best mate's face.

In all the time he had known John, he never saw him this still, even while he was sleeping.

He bent down, pressing his lips strongly against his forehead, before looking down at him intently, lips still centimetres away from his forehead.

He was so close he could see the little scar on his forehead from the car crush.  
He could even see all the small, usually imperceptible, freckles on his cheeks.

"Please, Johnny, open your eyes. You're stronger than this, I know you are and I know you can beat everything and return as a champion" he whispered.

John's hand, by his side, twitched a little and Paul quickly grabbed it, wide eyed.

Brian, equally wide eyed, ran out to call the doctor.


	6. Chapter 6

Pain.

Hot white waves of pain shooting through his body and making every limb feel very heavy.

Around him, everything was dark and cold.

John scaredly looked up, eyes wide as he tried to see something, anything, in the pitch black surroundings.

'John' 

His head snapped to the direction of the voice.

A man had appeared in his field of vision, seemingly almost lit up by a light of his own.

Tall and square, with a big soft beer belly. Salt and pepper hair and warm eyes and that warm warm smile.

"Uncle George!" he shrieked and ran to him, the man laughed, hugging him nice and close.

George smiled, "Boy, you've grown up so much!" he said, holding him by the shoulders and shaking him slightly.

John furrowed his brows, "But uncle, we've seen each other last week! When we went to buy that flowers for auntie Mimi" he said.

George sighed softly, but decided to not say anything. John was already battling for his life at the moment, he didn't need anymore information that might upset him further. 

"You're right" he said instead, "I want to say something though. If anything happens to me, I want you to be strong, okay? You must protect auntie for me, understood boy?"

John grinned brightly and even in his 25 years of age, George couldn't help but see his nephew as the always happy child he was in the past.

He pressed his lips against his forehead and smiled one last time, before disappearing in thin air.

"Uncle?" asked confused John, looking around.

Suddenly he saw a woman with long, coppery hair and he quickly rushed to her.

"Mommy!" he squeaked and Julia laughed, throwing her head back with a laugh as he twirled around with John in her arms.

"I'm so proud of you" she said softly, smothering back soft auburn hair.

John smiled, before his expression got sad. "Mommy I miss you" he whispered sadly, "Why can't I stay with you? I promise I'll be good"

Julia sighed, "Don't you like stay with auntie and uncle?" she asked and John quickly nodded, "Yes, I love them! I just miss you" he said with a shrug.

"It's not time yet" she whispered. "Auntie Mimi is waiting for you"

John sadly looked at her, but shutted his mouth and Julia smiled.

"It's not your time yet. You still have to do some great things in the world"

And with that, she was gone as quickly as she appeared.

"Mom? Mom? Uncle?"

Suddenly, a warm, white light surrounded him and distorted voices came to his ears, calling his name.

.

Paul anxiously held John's limp hand in his.

Too much time.

That twitch of hand, was indeed a sign that he was waking up, only the doctors couldn't tell how actually long it could take.

Though the doctors were saying that it was normal for someone who had just got a heart attack to slowly gain their consciousness back, they sounded worried.

They were afraid John was going to have another brain damage. And this time maybe permanent and way more serious than last time.

Mimi and Brian were sitting at the other side of the bed.  
The man had called Mimi as soon as John had went unconscious and she ran to the hospital as soon as she could.

John's breath was steady, but he was still too pale for Paul's liking and was still unconscious.

The words of the doctor, about the damage being so severe that John couldn't maybe even talk, was hovering over them like a black cloud.

Mimi had already signed some paperwork, claiming her legal guardianship on her nephew if something severe as that was going to happen.

"I already took care of him as a baby" she joked, but everyone could see that the usual composed Mimi Smith was very worried.

Suddenly, John's eyes slowly fluttered open as he groaned a little.

"Johnny" softly whispered Paul, hand reaching to stroke away from his eyes a lock of hair.

"M-Mr.Paul?" whispered every so softly John, finally taking in the blurry faces of his oh so called friends and auntie Mimi!

"Auntie" he whispered. Mimi and Brian got closer with their chairs, while Ringo and George had ran out to call a doctor.

"Don't even scare us like this again, John Winston" whispered Mimi, eyes filling with unshed tears.

"I see that you've woken up, John" said a doctor who had just entered.

He flashed a small flashlight into his eyes, before setting it aside and grabbing a pen.

"Ok, I'm just gonna ask you some questions" said and John nodded.

"How are you feeling?"   
"My head and tummy hurt a little, but I think I'm fine"

"And how old are you, John?"  
"Why everyone keep asking me that?" he asked with confusion, "Just answer the doctor, love" said Mimi with a gentle smile.  
"I'm eight" answered John.

"Do you know what day is it?"  
John shook his head, "I know it's April, though" 

The doctor nodded, "Okay, you did great, John. Now I'd like to have a word with you two, Mr.Epstein and Mrs.Smith"

The two nodded, but before Mimi could stand up, John threw himself at her.  
"No, don't leave me" he whined.  
"I'm just going here outside the door, love. Paul, George and Ringo will stay here with you and in a heartbeat I'll be here again" she said, but the boy only shook his head, arms tightening around her.

"It's all right. I'll fill you later about everything" reassured Brian with a smile, and off he went with the doctor.

The four stayed seated around John and the boy seemed happy.  
“Auntie?” he called out in a small voice, “You know who I saw when I was asleep?” he asked.

“No, John, who?” she curiously asked. John smiled, “I saw uncle George and even mum!” he cheerfully said.

Then his eyebrows furrowed, “Though they said something very strange about not being my time yet and that I’ve grown up so much” he said confused.

Mimi swallowed and so did the others. Mimi’s hand went down to twirl her wedding ring, the ring she had refused to take off, even if her husband had died 11 years before.

“You know how you’re uncle sometime said silly things” she said with a small smile. Great, now the empty feeling of his passing was making itself know again.

John nodded, seemingly deep in thoughts.  
"When I can see them?" he asked, looking up with hope shining in his eyes.

Mimi gulped, "Well...Uncle George...he isn't here with us anymore" she said, eyes lowering.

John's widened immediately, "What do you mean? Did he leave you like daddy did to mommy?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Mimi quickly shook her head, "Of course not! You know he loved us very much" she said.

Paul and the others looked worriedly as the woman tried to think of something to say.

"You know how uncle was very sick?" she said, hands going up to stroke his bed hair.

John nodded and Mimi smiled sadly, "It was worst than what we all thought. He's up there with the angels, looking down at us" she said the last part in a strained whisper and the boy's eyes widened.

Suddenly, he was in a full burst of tears, body strained to the bed because of all the wires he was connected with.

Paul quickly hugged him, nodding at Mimi, who silently left.

The other two quickly joined the group hug, giving all their comfort to their fallen brother.

Because no matter if John won't mentally recuperate, they were going to be there for him no matter what.

Because The Beatles were more than just bandmates. They were family.

When John had finally fallen asleep, Paul went outside, in the deserted hall.

Mimi was sitting on the floor, back against the wall and a cigarette lit between her fingers.  
Paul silently joined her, lighting a cigarette too and worriedly looked at her.

"I'm fine" she said, finally returning his gaze.

"How did you manage to-"  
"How did I manage to say such a lie without much difficulty?" she asked and Paul only nodded.

"It wasn't a complete lie, actually" she said, fingers playing with the wedding ring yet again, "George was really sick when John was eight. Pneumonia they said" she shrugged a little, "Luckily it wasn't live threatening and in no time at all he was back on his feet."

Her face was so sad.  
Paul couldn't believe that this woman was the same one who would glare at him whenever he went to see John as teenagers.

It was probably because Paul wasn't a kid anymore, but suddenly Mimi wasn't as scary as he thought she was.

"It's going to be fine, Mimi. I'm sure of it"  
"Too much positivity, McCartney" she scolded, but as Paul looked at her, she was smiling almost motherly at him.

He couldn't help but smiling back, a true, sincere smile.

.

Meanwhile, in the doctor's office, Brian was gnawing away at his fingernails.

He was so sad and worried for his boy.

The doctor let out a sigh and watched Brian from the top of his glasses.

"The good new" he started saying, "it's that there isn't any sign of brain damage. At least, not new ones"

Brian nodded for him to keep going.

"The bad new is that a month had passed already and so we're starting to think that the damage might be permanent" he said the last bit with a pitying look on his face.

'I'm sorry to say those sad things. But your singer might not be able to sing or play ever again. I'm sorry, my daughter really loved your group'

Brian sighed, rubbing a sweaty hand down his tired face.

The day was starting to take its toll on him.

"Please, just keep testing" he whispered, "I can't lose my John"

When he made his way back to the boy's private room he cooed out loud.

Mimi, sitting on the chair by the bed, was telling what sounded like a fairy tale.

The four boys were intently listening to her, cuddled up in bed, Paul's arms protectively wrapped around John's frame and the older one snuggling back.

He smiled, taking a seat on the other chair and making the boys smile up to him.

Everything was going to be just fine, he was sure of it.


	7. Chapter 7

Many days had passed since John’s heart attack.  
Many more since the dreadful car accident that had started everything.

Paul had lost count.  
The doctors had stopped being positive. They had stopped with the ifs and the whens.  
It was clear now. John’s brain damage couldn’t be more permanent that now.

The band -George, Ringo and Paul, accompanied by Brian- had given the new that the Beatles wouldn’t be touring anytime soon and that they were taking a break from public eyes.

Obviously the journalist had taken notice of John’s absence and that had sparked all types of comments, especially when the news of the car crush popped out.

Paul was angry. They almost took it granted that John was dead or very hurt.

But John was there, not himself anymore, but still there nonetheless.  
With his bright smile and contagious laughter and never ending happiness.   
Paul wanted to hug him close to him and got some of his positivity, soaking it like a sponge.

Though not everything was as simple as it looked.

Even in his seemingly endless happiness, John had good days and bad days, the latter more numerous.

John was in pain. His head would often give him troubles and dizziness, making the boy very fussy.  
His heart, however, was fine and healthy, probably because of the quitting of drinking, smoking and late out parties.  
Even the others had stopped smoking around John to avoid any relapse of his heart.

That evening had started like many others, the boys and Brian having dinner together, when suddenly John’s face had paled.

“John? Bud, is everything all right?” asked concerned Paul and the others turned to look at him in concern.

John’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I…” he started voice shaky, “I can’t feel my left hand” he stuttered out, fear clear in his voice.

Brian’s eyes widened as he rushed to the phone, probably calling a private room at the hospital.

Meanwhile, the boys were now surrounding John.  
“Can you clasp my hand?” asked Ringo, concern sparkling in his blue eyes.  
The others desperately looked at John’s hand, which was slightly grasping Ringo’s, force at a minimum.

“Not good?” whispered George. “No. Not good” whispered back Ringo.

Paul gripped his hair. If they could tell it was wrong, he was actually worried about what the doctor was going to say to them.

The drive to the hospital had been a long one.  
Paul was holding John against him, the boy's body trembling.

"Don't worry, John" whispered Ringo, hand rubbing his arm tenderly.

John looked scared, eyes wide and his hand clenching and unclenching.   
"The feeling is back a little" he whispered.

He was feeling guilty. He had made the boys and Brian stop their dinner because of him.

"Good" said Brian, looking back in the rearview mirror, concern coating his voice.

They were finally in the hospital, walking hurriedly in the hallways, when John let out a shriek.

"What's wrong?" asked Paul.  
John was hanging from his arm. "My legs feel weak now" he said.

George pitily looked at him, who looked so scared. He crouched down a little and sent a small smile towards the scared boy.

"Jump on, Johnny" he said and John latched his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist.

George stood up, slightly upset to find how light John was.

The boy had lost a lot of weight.

He was now very skinny and frail and frightened of everything. Especially if he was in pain or scared because of sudden pains.

The boys walked in a room, where John's doctor was standing waiting for him.

"Okay, John. What does it seem to be wrong?" asked the doctor when George posed John down carefully on the little examination table in the room.

John looked up shyly at Brian, who smiled, though the lines on his forehead, that were always showing when he was concerned, were deeper than usual.

"He had a lack of feeling in his left hand. Then while we were walking here, his legs had given up his weight, making him fall" he explained worriedly.

The doctor nodded, "I understand" he said.  
He then turned to the nurse, ordering some tests.

"Now you just have to change in this gown" he said, handing him a thin pale blue hospital gown.

As soon as the doctor was out, Paul climbed into bed with John. The older boy quietly hugged him, letting Paul's hands rub his head.

The two stayed together on the hospital bed, Brian putting the gown on the boy.

"I'm scared" he whispered, looking at the others.  
They all hugged him, careful to not hurt him.

"Are your legs better?" asked George and John nodded, "They still feel a bit weak and they're trembling" he said.

Paul gently racked his hands into soft auburn hair, gently taming every knot.

"It's going to be okay" he simply said, kissing the top of his head and stared deeply into those brown pools of honey that were his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I only can write angst lmao.  
Hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello angst my old friend lol.  
I honestly don't even know.  
Comment if you liked!

The scan has came back negative.  
There wasn't anything wrong with his brain.

The doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with John.

They've just ended taking a blood sample for another test they were going to do and were going to return with the results soon.

They all hoped they were going to find something.

John tiredly closed his eyes. He was tired of constantly being poked and prodded around by needles like a rag doll.

He was also feeling worse, his head hurting and his limbs feeling weak.

Brian looked worriedly at him.

Though his face was his regular 25-year-old face, John did look younger and smaller.

It was probably the fright and tiredness on his face, making him look actually younger.

"Are you okay?" he whispered. John stared at him a little, before nodding his head hesitantly.

"I'm sorry" he whispered.  
"About what?" asked confused Brian.

"All of this" said John, gesturing to the room with a bandaged arm, "And I'm sorry I've ruined the band" he added.

They have told him everything, all about the Beatles and Beatlemania.

John has been shocked, the shock quickly being replaced by guilt for having became such a burden.

No matter how much the others told him he wasn't a burden, he was still sad and guilty.

"Stop with all of this" said Brian, sitting on the bed next to the younger one.

John sighed, leaning down and Brian started stroking his back and hair tenderly, kissing softly the top of his head.

Right at that moment, the doctor entered with the results.

Brian gulped, going quickly to call the others that were in the canteen.

Once everyone was there, they anxiously waited for the doctor to speak.

"We found out that his white cells aren't enough. It's his marrow. He has an infection" said solemnly the man, feeling sympathetic for those poor men.

Everyone was silent, all engrossed in their own thoughts.

"What we should do? Antibiotics?" asked George, looking up pale faced.

"It might not be enough. Maybe block the symptoms, but not actually end all of this. John needs a bone marrow transplant…"

They were all stunned.

Paul gulped, hands balling on his lap.

It wasn't fair. John has been through so much already.

First the bloody car accident, than the heart attack and now this.

Why? What had John done to deserve such a fate?

They all looked at John.

The poor man was sitting in the bed with a stunned expression. His eyes were shiny with tears and he looked about to start crying.

"Can...can we test ourselves to see if we are a match?" asked Ringo, looking up determined.

The doctor nodded and opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Paul, "Can we do it, like, now?"

"Mr. McCartney-"

"The sooner the better! The soonest we get tested, the soonest John can be cured!" said Paul, his voice determined.

He would do everything to make his best friend feel better.

The doctor nodded, "If you'll follow me" he didn't have to say those words twice as Paul had already sprinted out.

Sitting on a bed in a small room, Paul gulped.

"Will it hurt?" he asked. The doctor shook his head, "It's just a little pinch on your arm to draw your blood"

Paul nodded, "What if I match? I'll be operated, right?"

"Yes, but don't worry, you will not feel anything"

"It's not me I'm really worried about" said Paul. He was chewing on his nails, something he do when under stress.

"Paul, John has gone through so much. He will not feel anything, believe me. He will be sedated, just like you, through all the procedure" reassured the kind doctor, eyes kind and smile gentle.

Paul seemed a little reassured, even if a bit skeptical nevertheless.

"At least he'll not be in pain anymore, right doctor?"  
"Yes, though he will have to stay some weeks in the hospital. If everything goes as it should go, he'll be completely fine"

Paul nodded. They kept quiet for a while, until the doctor broke the silence.

"You must really care for him, don't you?"

Paul nodded, a small smile forming on his face, his body stopping being so tense as he lost himself in memories.

"He's my best friend. Had been for a very long time. I almost don't even remember my life before him. I honestly don't know what I would do if…" he couldn't bring himself to say the dreaded word.

He couldn't think of his best friend gone just like his own mother.

A big warm hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Relax. John will be fine. We can't really assume everything, but he's a strong lad" said the doctor.  
Paul gulped a little. 

When Paul returned to the bedroom, he found John asleep.  
He looked tired and worn-out, face pale and black circles under his eyes.

John never looked this tired before, but he has been never hospitalised for so long.

If everything was going in the right way, John would stay three months in the hospital.

But John already had health problems, since he had a severe brain damage and had a heart attack, which wasn't something the doctors would joke about.

So they actually didn't know when John was actually going to be fine, but they had to stay positive, at least to not worry John further.

Brian was sitting next to the bed, a tired and worried expression aging his face.

Paul dropped down onto a chair, looking at John's face tenderly yet sadly.

"Brian, do you think he's going to be fine?" whispered Paul, now looking at Brian's face.

The man sighed, returning the look, "I honestly don't know Paul. It sounds serious"

"But in a few hours we'll get the results and see if I match, then John will be fine"

"Paul, there's always a small chance of not matching. Or worse, his body rejection the marrow" said softly Brian, looking so sad and not composed as he usually was.

Paul's eyes were wide and shiny, "No...No, it can't be…"

He couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. He leaned down, eyes not leaving John's face.

Brian gathered him in his arms, gently stroking his back reassuringly.

"I can't lose him...I can't…" he sobbed, letting Brian's hands card through his dark unruly hair.

"Shhh, Paulie...Just be positive okay?"  
"How can I?"  
"For him, at least. He's mentally a child and he's scared. He wants someone near him to be strong, okay?"

Paul wiped his eyes and nodded.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to John's forehead, trying to put all the love he felt for him in that kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

Cold.

It was a bad kind of cold, that kind of cold that no matter what, no matter how many covers you use, you can't just get warm.

John's eyes tightened in pain as he snuggled closer.

It was soft and cosy and warm. Finally he was warming a bit.

The thing he was leaning into was so soft and nice and slowly, rhythmically moving.

Up, down, up, down.

He snuggled his head further, smelling sweet vanilla and honey and he suddenly recognized that smell;

The boy finally opened his eyes, tiredly looking up.

He was met with his auntie watching him, her eyes tired, yet showing worry, but a bit of relieve too.

"Thank God you're finally awake, love" she softly said and John became aware of the hand rhythmically drawing circles on his back, and how he was slumped death weight on his aunt's chest.

"Auntie" he muttered in a feeble voice, wincing as he head gave a sharp trob.

Mimi seemed to notice, holding closer the cold body to hers, "Shh, love. Does your tummy also hurt?" she whispered, looking into those pools of warm brown that were her nephew's eyes.

Only then, he noticed a low, throbbing ache deep in his belly, so he just tiredly nodded.

"Why am I hurting so much, auntie? You said I was going to feel better…" he muttered, looking up, body still curled into Mimi's arms.

Mimi sighed. She did told him he was going to be better. So did Brian and Paul and George and Ringo.

Even the doctors. 

That was the only good thing about the brain damage.

John was as naive as a 8-year-old.

He was too naive to understand the serious looks shared between the doctors or the growing worry between the others.

But his condition was not improving.  
John was growing sicker more time as passed.

He had developed a fever, which scared the doctors to a great extent.  
If the fever wouldn't broke soon, they were not going to be able to do the surgery he needed.

Paul entered the room, wordlessly sitting down on the other chair by the bed.

He looked terrible, in Mimi's eyes.

His usually neat combed hair was sticking in every direction, fringe messily falling over his forehead.  
There were deep bags under his eyes, showing a noticeable lack of sleep.

A small stubble was appearing over his jaw and chubby cheeks.

Well, Mimi mused, she was sure she looked as bad as him, if not worse, since her age wasn't really helping.

As much as she didn't like Paul one bit when they met, so many years ago, she was happy to see him still there, watching worriedly over his fallen best friend.

Mimi turned to look down at her now sleeping nephew, gently stroking his hair, "His fever is slowly coming down. If it keeps lowering, it means that he will be well enough to do it"

Paul nodded, rubbing his arm, where the doctors had poked him again to draw some blood. 

Something in him was making flips, knowing that he might save his mate's life.

"Do you think that if he does this, maybe his brain damage will heal too?" he asked hopefully, looking like a puppy.

Mimi chuckled, hands still playing with John's auburn locks and looking at his flushed face.

"It's impossible to say, Paul" she said with a small shrug.

Paul nodded a little, but kept quiet, gaze unfocused as he stared at the wall in front of him.

John's conditions were worsening more as the days passed.  
He was now hooked up on more machines and even a canula, helping him breath.

His face was pale and gaunt, as he lost a lot weight those days.  
His breath was shallow and laboured. He was also often unconscious, but his sleep wasn't resting and the boy often woke up more tired than before.

Paul and the other boys didn't consider themselves much religious, yet they often found one of the others praying for John, praying for his health and praying that the surgery was going to turn out for the better.

That's why they were full of hope when the doctor smiled at them.

He had just finished checking his vitals and everyone was anxiously waiting for the results.

"Good news. His body temperature had gone down"

"That means…"

"Yes, John is stabilized enough to go under surgery"

There was a stunned silence, before everyone started cheering, tears freely making their way down their cheeks.

"Thank God" whispered Paul, hands clasped together and eyes shining with tears.

"Now, Mr.McCartney, if you'd follow me, so we can get you ready" said the doctor, arm outstretched.

Paul nodded solemnly, more than ready. He had waited for a long time.

The others all faced him, telling him their good wishes.

But what Mimi did was what surprised him the most.

Mimi looked at him deeply, before hugging him tightly and Paul slowly relaxed into her hold, feeling the maternal feeling he had so much craved through the years.

"Thank you, Paul. Thank you" she whispered, leaving a small kiss on his forehead, making Paul smile.

With a last kiss by Brian's part and a last pat by the other two boys, Paul followed the doctor, hoping that everything was going to be fine.

If everything was going to go as planned, John was going to be fine.


	10. Chapter 10

They had all gathered in the waiting room, desperately waiting for some news.

Three hours. John had been under for three hours and half, to be precise.

They were all worried. No one would come out and gave them any news regarding John.

They could only sit there and pray.

.

"Poor Mr.Lennon, he doesn't deserve all of this" said a nurse, sympathetically glancing at the unconscious man.

"No, he sure does not. After all he had gone through…"

"He's my daughter's favourite Beatle" said another nurse.

The doctor smiled a little, "Then we must be sure to give him perfect care"

Suddenly, the heart monitor started beating faster and faster.

"Quick, his pressure is dropping!"

"We're losing him! Quick, we need to start the CPR!"

Everyone was bustling around the bed, poking him and prodding him and trying everything in their willpower to make him breath again.

"C'mon, Lennon. You can't leave us yet, not after everything you've been through" said nervously the doctor, injecting his patient.

.

Paul looked up, eyes widening.

After five hours, the doctor had came out to give them the so waited news.

"So…" asked Brian anxiously, getting closer.

The doctor sighed, "The operation had went well" 

They all sighed in relief, until Ringo's eyes widened.

"Something is wrong, I can feel it" he said quietly. The doctor nodded, "We've lost him. Twice actually"

"B-but you said...you said…"

"He's fine" said quickly the doctor with raised hands, "We managed to resuscitate him in time. But...we still don't know the extent of the damage as he's still unconscious because of the sedation for the operation" said the man.

"That...that mean he could still have health troubles?" said weakly Paul.

The doctor nodded, a sad expression and pity on his face.

John had already suffered so much.  
Why couldn't he have a break?

Brian was deathly pale and quiet on a chair.

"Will he...will he have another serious brain damage?" he asked quietly.

"There's a possibility yes"

They all nodded and at that point, the doctor walked back to a counter.

"I'd like some more brain scans for John Lennon" he said seriously, determination on his features as he walked back towards the room.

John was deathly pale, laying still on the hospital bed.

The doctor was studying his face.

He felt sad for John. He was so young, what did he do to deserve such a fate?

His body was tense like a rope and he was breathing rather shallowly, so the doctor had told them to put him on oxygen.

The doctor kept watching his unconscious patient, when suddenly, his body started to jerk.

The nurse, frightened, looked up lost at the man.

"He's having a seizure! Quick, we have to roll him on his side!" he screamed, the nurse quickly running to his aid.

Together, they rolled the boy on his right side, John spitting the spit he had on his mouth while seizing.

Slowly, his trembling quiet down, more and more, until he was still again.

They all breathed a sigh of relief.

"Please, I need a brain scan. Tell them it's urgent" he said, looking deeply into the woman's frightened eyes.

The woman nodded quickly, scared, resembling a child as she scrambled out of the room and down the crowded hallway.

He jumped up a little as John's eyes started fluttering open.

"Mr. Lennon, can you hear me?" he asked, quickly taking out a little flashlight and shoning it into the boy's eyes.

"Something is wrong…" he muttered to himself. 

John's eyes were unfocused and it didn't seem like he was able to focus his gaze on anything.

Was it...was the seizure caused by the first brain damage? Or by all the other health troubles he had throughout the time between the accident and the present?

"B... Bri...whe...where…?" he stuttered, almost like he was drunk.

The doctor smiled, hands holding him down, "Mr. Lennon, you just had a major surgery and some complications"

John looked up confused, eyes wide. He tried to get up again, but the nurse kept him still, gently holding him on the bed.

The door opened and everyone came in, gathering around the bed.

"John, are you alright?" asked someone and John recognised that voice as Brian's. 

"No! Don't try to get up, love!" they all said at the same time, spooking the boy.

Their hearts broke at the now crying boy, especially the other Beatles'.

They had never seen John cry so much until the accident.

A strong protective feeling overwhelmed Mimi, who quickly rushed to the boy.

John looked up, face twisted in pain, fear and confusion.

His feelings were all over the place and he was very confused. So Mimi's warm body and arms around him were pleasantly accepted.

"Auntie Mimi, I'm scared" he whimpered, head buried in the crook of her neck.

She kissed his forehead and kept slightly rocking him back and forth, making him calm down a little.

"John, I'm going to have a look at you, okay?" asked the doctor calmly. John nodded with a sniffle, "Can auntie stay here with me? I don't want to be alone" he whimpered, rubbing his eye.

"Yes, of course! I bet nurse Smith knows how to hold you while I check you up" he said in a goofy voice, making John giggle childishly.

"And the others can wait in the waiting room, I'll be back soon and you can return in the room" he instructed, and the others walked out, sending sweet glances at the boy.

John sat forward, tightly holding Mimi's hand as the doctor putted the cold stethoscope on his bare chest, making him shudder at the coldness.

Mimi kept holding him close, calling him a good boy and John was calm now, still gripping his aunt tightly but not looking as scared as before.

His body was still spasming sometime, concerning both the doctor and Mimi, making John grew even more anxious at the sight of worry on their faces.

"Does your head hurt?"

John nodded, wincing and bringing his hand up to his forehead.

"You had a seizure" the man's tone was low and gentle, but serious.

John looked up with wary scared eyes, not understanding what was wrong with him.

"There's a high chance for him to have some swelling around his brain. We still aren't sure, we're going to do some more scans soon" 

Mimi's eyes were wide, her arms holding close the boy.

John was uncomfortable and tired, so he only posed his head down on Mimi's shoulder, letting the woman rub his back gently.

It was scary for the poor man.

But at least he wasn't alone.


	11. Author Note!

Sorry for the long wait, but next chapter will come later than what I thought.

I'm sorry, writer block is really kicking my ass as u don't actually know how to go on with this story.

If anyone had suggestions or something they'd like to see in the next chapter, feel free to leave suggestions in the comments :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait and short chapter!  
Hopefully, the next chapter will come sooner and hopefully be a little longer.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Also happy birthday Ringo!)

If anyone would have asked Paul McCartney about his best friend's reaction to being abandoned, Paul would have perfectly know.

John was unpredictable most of the time, but Paul could look right through him and his harsh moods and glares.

Under the tough, not caring, cold reaction, John would have suffered like a dog.

He wasn't a boy of tears, that's for sure.  
More of angry fighting everyone and bad mouthing everyone.

He remembered some fights he had witnessed between him and his aunt Mimi, have heard some pretty heavy shit coming out from his mate's mouth.

And yet, this new John, the one who was mentally damaged and was back into his childhood years, was even more unpredictable and heart-wrenching.

Whenever someone, and more specifically Mimi, would leave him alone, he would freak out.  
Eyes wide and teary, frantically looking around in search of comfort.

More than once, the boys' hearts had broken at the desperate edge in John's voice as he clinged on Mimi desperately.

"No, please don't leave me! I don't want to be alone! I'll be good, I swear! Don't leave me!" 

John was still very sick, even if the transplant had gone perfectly. His temperature was still too high for doctors likings, so they were keeping him in for more tests.

The boy was tired, confused and in pain, more often than not high on medicines or just simply too out of it to acknowledge anything.

Everyone was scared for a possible new seizure attack, so the poor boy was also on edge, not wanting to scare anyone.

That day, though, it looked like it was going to be hell.

John had woken up by regurgitating the small dinner he had consumed the previous night.

He was pale and sweating and very weak when the doctor came in.

"It's nothing" reassured the doctor, "Just the meds making him nauseous"

John was shaking like a leaf.

"You need to shower or bathe" said Mimi.

The woman hadn't gone away since the worsening of John's conditions.  
No one did, they were always taking turns so that at least two person could be there to comfort the sick Beatle.

A nurse entered, holding a bucket with water and a sponge. Mimi had asked her if she could help her, "John would feel at ease if I'm the one washing him" she said and the other woman nodded.

They quietly undressed him from his gown, the nurse positioning the pillows so John would be comfortable.

"You've lost so much weight" whispered Mimi, tenderly passing the sponge down John's scrawny pale arm.

John mumbled in his sleep, eyes opening for a second, before shutting again.

"He's your boy?" asked the nurse, still quietly moving John around.

Mimi's lips twitched in a half smile, "Yes, only I didn't have to bear him 9 months and then go through hell to push him out of me"

At the nurse's inquisitive gaze, Mimi smiled, "He's not biologically mine" she explained, "My body wasn't probably fit enough to bear a labour" she said with a small shrug.

For years, before getting John, she was so angry with herself, being unable to give a child to the poor husband who loved her so much.

But George had always reassured her that they didn't need any child to be happy.  
Still, she was feeling bad nonetheless

So when John came around, they were both excited and absolutely enthusiastic. 

Mimi was snapped out of her memories at the groan John made.

"Mimi...pee…" he whimpered as a warning, but it was already too late.

Before the stunned women's eyes, urine started running out from John's penis, rolling down and pooling onto the sheet.

John gasped, probably not expecting it. His eyes welled up with tears and the two women looked at each other.

The nurse quietly went to change the sheets, unbothered by what had just happened, no matter how much John was apologising.

Mimi had ran to comfort him, holding him tightly against her chest, shushing him.

John's body was curled up, one hand gripping the woman's shirt as he sobbed.

"It's going to be alright" whispered Mimi, rubbing his back. At that moment, the nurse had entered again, holding clean sheets.

The women nodded, Mimi helping John out of bed. The boys was trembling, his limbs weak and unsteady, Mimi having to hold most of the boy's weight.

John's breath was coming out in short breaths as they looked the nurse make the bed and carry out the dirty sheets.

"Mr.Lennon"

They turned around. The doctor was on the door, a sad expression on his face.

"Mr. Lennon, we think that you might like to go home for some time. You'll still come in every week for check-ups, but you'll enjoy some time alone" he said.

John's face broke into a grin.

Mimi, instead, was feeling upset. A sick feeling twisting her guts as she tightened her hold onto her sick nephew.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, I managed to post a chapter sooner than the previous one.  
Hope you enjoy!
> 
> The next one will probably be the epilogue :'(

'You can't discharge him! He's very sick, you've said so! Do you even know what he has?'

'I'm sorry, sirs and ma'am. We don't know what to do anymore, we don't have any more tests to run and we weren't able to find what is wrong. We thought that the best for him was to pass as much time as he has in a familiar setting… We're so sorry'.

Those were the last words from the doctor, before John was discharged from the hospital.

His diagnosis was still a mystery and the doctors had said that it was better if John would have spent the last days at home instead than a cold hospital.

A week had passed from John moving out from the Beatles household to return into his house in Mendips with Mimi, and the boy had been enthusiastic.

He couldn't understand that something was deeply wrong.

Paul knocked on the door, nervously looking around.

He smiled slightly when the door opened and Mimi appeared, looking tired, but relieved at the same time.

After the initial greetings, Paul stepped inside, taking off his coat and shoes as usual.

The atmosphere seemed off. There was no music, no grinning John and angry Mimi.

Only the tired Mimi and the sound of the television playing in the sitting room.

While the woman had excuse herself to make tea, Paul wandered into the living room.

Everything looked exactly like it did when he was going there as a teenager.

The only difference was John sitting by the coffee table, cross legged on the floor.

"Hey bud" greeted Paul, walking closer.

The look he received from John was an heartbreaking one.

The boy looked up with innocence filled eyes and grinned, a grin so boyish that was betraying his true age.

John looked so small and vulnerable, almost as Paul was able to break him by only pushing him a little at as thin he had became.

They neither said anything; John kept on drawing whatever he was drawing, and Paul was looking down at the paper from above him.

The silence was becoming too much, almost suffocating Paul. He had to get out.  
It was too painful, stay there and see his best friend going through so much pain.

He silently walked to the kitchen, joining there Mimi.

John hadn't even noticed.

Paul was staring at Mimi, the woman looked so worn-out, so unusual from how he remembered her looking.

"How is he going on?" he asked quietly.

Mimi stilled, stopping the movement of stirring sugar in the cup.

She slowly, so damn slowly, turned around to face Paul.

To face the boy she had despised so much, but that had became so important to her nephew.

"Not good" she said in a hoarse whisper, "He's still very sick and feverish. Doctors aren't giving him much time"

Paul painfully swallowed. He couldn't imagine it. A future without that genius that was John Lennon.

Or at least, what he was before the darn accident that had started everything.

Paul still couldn't understand the connection between the car accident, the brain damage, the seizures, the marrow transplant and everything that had gone downhill from there.

And, well, it looked like the doctors couldn't understand either.

Paul wanted to sue the hospital, but Brian had advised him against that, as the hospital hadn't done anything wrong.

His eyes were starting to get teary and he noticed that Mimi's were starting to look glossy too.

Ah. The strong Mary Elizabeth 'Mimi' Stanley-Smith was also about to breakdown.

"Is he in pain?" he whispered. He was feeling so drained and tired.

He rubbed his eyes roughly with his hand to make the tears go away.

Mimi sighed, putting the tea cups on the table.

"Yes. His fever is still pretty high, he's still pretty nauseous and this morning he had another seizure attack" she said. Paul looked up with wide, panicked eyes.

The two kept looking at each other, until the sound of footsteps echoed in the room and John peaked inside from the doorway.

"John, c'mere" said gently the older woman, lifting an arm.

John grinned a little, shyly entering the room and sitting on Mimi's lap.

The woman smiled, kissing the back of his head gently and Paul was feeling like his heart had been constricted into a pincer.

This wasn't the strong, stubborn John Lennon, not anymore.

John grinned shyly at him, head lowered on his aunt's shoulder.

He was trembling, noted Paul, and Mimi was rubbing his arms to try and warm him up.

"Are you cold, John?" he asked and John nodded reluctantly. "I'm feeling weird, my head is thumping" he said in a small voice.

While the two carried on in conversation, John was slowly but surely falling asleep in his aunt's arms, tightly holding onto the woman.

Mimi was rubbing circles on his back, trying desperately to make him feel a little better.

"I'm afraid he's going to die soon" admitted Mimi, looking over the bed. John was asleep, but looked dead. He could have been dead, if it wasn't for the rise and fall of his chest.

Paul gulped. No, he didn't want to think about his best friend not being there with him.

"He still have a high fever. He's having troubles breathing and not to talk about those scary, scary epileptic attacks" she carried on, turning around to look at him.

"Didn't...Didn't they give you anything for him? To alleviate the pain?" he asked, feeling his eyes tear up.

Mimi sighed, "Some painkillers, nothing else. He's worsening every passing day"

"What should we do?" he asked, voice cracking.

"Trying and spend some quality time with him" she said, voice a mere whisper.

They stayed in silence, looking at the boy in bed.

Suddenly, John's body started spasming.

It was scary. John's pliant body was tense and spasming, rocking the bed back against the wall.

Mimi and Paul rushed to the bed, grasping the boy's body.

Paul noticed with horror that John was wheezing for breath; white, foamy drool was coming out in spurts from his mouth and his eyes had rolled to the back of his head.

"Paul, quick, roll him on his side and pat his back until he coughs out the foam" shouted Mimi.

Paul's eyes widened, body moving in automatic; he rushed to his side, quickly rolling him on his side.

He started patting his back, until John started coughing, spit rolling down on the pillow.

Mimi rushed back into the room with a bowl of water, starting swabbing John's body to try and cool him down.

Gradually, John's body stopped jerking and his breathing became more calm.

Paul and Mimi looked at each other, sighing in relief.

Thank God the seizure had been a short one.

Slowly, his body went lax, before his eyes opened slowly and a loud pained groan came out of his lips.

"Hey bud" whispered Paul, one hand brushing John's sweaty hair.

John groaned, looking up at the boy with tired looking eyes, "My head hurts and everything hurt" he croaked hoarsely.

"Poor love" said sympathetically the younger man, leaning down to press a kiss onto his forehead.

John smiled happily, raising his arms to tenderly wrap around Paul's neck.

Paul's eyes teared up as he returned the hug, feeling the high temperature of John's body against his body.

He ran a hand through those auburn tresses, making him sigh softly in delight.

John was growing incredibly weaker into Paul's arms.

"Mr. Paul" he mumbled, eyes half lidded, "I'm very sleepy" he whispered.

Paul nodded, biting his bottom lip until he could taste blood to not cry as he lowered John down onto the bed until he was laying on his back.

He kissed his forehead, letting him fall back asleep.

He then ran away, breaking into tears into Mimi's arms.


	14. Epilogue

The boys and Brian, along with Mal and Neil, had ran to Mendips as soon as they got off of the phone.

They were worried, very worried.

Mimi was awfully pale and quiet as she opened the door, letting them inside.

"He's...he's coping" she said quietly, letting them walk upstairs behind her.

Fear gripped them all as they stood in front of John's bedroom door.

George was twisting his hands, letting out little worried sighs.

Ringo couldn't stop drumming with his fingers against the side of his leg.

Mal, Neil and Brian were all sharing worried glances, gulping and sighing.

Paul was biting his lip, until blood was coming out as he blinked back tears.

With a heavy sigh, Mimi opened the door.

The room was warm and a heavy darkness surrounded everything.

They walked close to the bed, holding their breaths.

John was in bed, looking extremely pale.

His forehead was shining with sweat and his hair was matted to his forehead.

He looked in pain.

His face was gaunt, yet slightly chubby, his cheeks stood out in the general paleness with their rubicond colour.

His lashes were brushing his cheeks with every little flutter and, sometimes, his breath would catch in his throat.

Mimi had walked next to the bed like a guardian angel, gently leaning down to brush her lips onto his extremely warm and sweaty forehead.

At that butterfly kiss, his eyes fluttered open a little, feverish and unfocused.

"A-auntie Mimi...hurts...e-everything hurt…" John's speech was incredibly weak and it was clear that he was struggling to speak and even to stay awake.

"I know, love. But here there is someone who wants to see you" she sweetly said, caressing his soft face.

John tried to nod a little, even tried to sit up.

The woman looked back at the others, nodding a little.

The first one who stepped to the bed was Mal.

He smiled a little, grabbing the boy's hand.

"Hey, Johnny. I want to let you know that our friendship is something I really value, y'know?" he leaned down a little, pressing a little kiss on his forehead.

John smiled a little, softly and it seemed like he was recognising Mal as the roadie he was, but that flicker of recognition lasted for a short whim, before his gaze became dull again.

One by one, the boys gathered around him, praying and kissing his forehead tenderly.  
Brian was barely holding back the tears, while the other Beatles were actually crying.

John was still only half conscious, breathing slowly.

Mimi was caressing his soft hair, slowly crooning what sounded like a lullaby, making his eyes grew heavier and heavier.

"Hey bud" whispered Paul, eyes sore and red as he kneeled down next to the bed.

He grasped one of John's limp pale hands and leaned down, pressing his forehead onto their intertwined fingers.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Johnny. I know you don't remember, but you're my best friend and I love you so much" he choked out.

"I...I love you too" he said, and Paul could find truth in those words, like John had actually remembered him.

They all walked out, sobbing and holding onto each other, Brian actually had to almost carry Paul.

Mimi was quietly and silently sobbing as she sat down on the bed.  
She grabbed John and pulled him over her lap.

John groaned and whined and Mimi's hand flew to the back of his head.

She noticed, with some sort of wicked humor, that she was holding him like she was holding a newborn, rather than a grown-up man.

His body, though, was actually resembling one of a baby.

He had gotten incredibly thin, his ribs poking out from under his skin like reliefs.

His head was very delicate, a single thud could have provocated even more damage to his already swollen and hurt brain.

He furrowed his brows as something wet fell on his face, and he opened his eyes.

Mimi was crying.  
"Auntie...don't cry, please" he whispered, mustering the strength to lift an arm.

He caressed her face with his fingertips, making her smile a little and kiss the outstretched hand.

John's body was going limp and his face was becoming a wax mask, but he was still breathing. He was still somewhat conscious.

Mimi's head snapped up at the sound of the door opening.

Peaking in, Paul's tear stained face came into view.

He was sobbing, eyes big and wet; his bottom lip was gnawed and bloody and a small trickle of blood, so warm and crimson, had stained the side of his mouth.

He looked at the limp figure with the head on Mimi's lap, then his bloodshot eyes posed on the woman's face.

Mimi understood the question and quietly shook her head, body slightly rocking with sobs.

"Can I…?" it was said in such a small whimper that made Paul look like a scared child.

A child who just had a nightmare and was debating whether going into his parents room in the middle of the night or not.

Mimi nodded and Paul made his way back into the room.

"Gimme your hand" said suddenly the woman, making Paul jump at the request.

"W-what?"   
"Just give me your hand, McCartney"

He gulped, letting her take his hand into her smaller one.

He looked at her gentle movement, before his eyes posed down onto John's face.

He wasn't even sure if John was even aware of his surroundings at that point.

Mimi posed Paul's hand on John's face with a small smile, "See, Johnny? Paul is here! Can you feel his hand?"

John didn't speak, didn't even open his eyes.

He leaned into the touch, however.

Even that small, almost imperceptible thing made Paul's heart speed up.

After all that suffering, John was finally free.

"He's not suffering, right?" he asked, glancing at the old nurse.

Mimi shook her head, shrugging a little her shoulders, "He's too far to feel anything" she reassured.

At least Paul knew that his best mate, his brother!, was now feeling at least better.

After months and months of pain and undiagnosed illnesses, he was finally free.

In his mind, Paul started counting all the recent memories:

The day before the car accident.  
The car accident.

All the confusion about the brain damage John had went through.

The heart attack and seizure attacks.

The marrow transplant.

His brain basically destroying itself.

And throughout all of that, John had always managed to smile and be innocent, stuck in the mentality the car crush had given him.

He definitely deserved some peace.

"You've done some great things in this world you'll surely be remembered for" he whispered, leaning down to bury his head into his auburn soft hair.

Tears were coming down his cheeks like rivers, yet his voice was still quite steady and calm.

"You've been loved so much by so many people. Me and Mimi are here with you and we both love you so much" he glanced up at Mimi, who was watching down at her nephew with pain filled eyes, but a small smile on her lips.

"You were a little piece of shit, but you were my little piece of shit"

John's eyes had fluttered closed now and his breathing was coming in soft puffs of air.

"The whole world loves you, John Winston Lennon. I love you. Our friends love you. Your family loves you. You always been loved by everyone you were close with"

A hand on his shoulder made him snapp up and look at the woman in front of him.

Mimi was biting her lips, tears running down her pale cheeks.

Paul glanced down.

John's chest had stopped moving.

He began to weep loudly, both of them cradling the frail body of the boy in their arms.

On the 8th of December 1965, John Winston Lennon's life was taken away from him by a bad bad disease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're at the end of this story.  
When I started it, I didn't think I was going to carry it on.
> 
> Please, leave your opinion on the epilogue or something :)

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a Kudo or a comment to let me know if you liked it :)


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